”Read Books”

A sample from Book 7

 Read Books
 (for Samantha)
  
 read books
she says to me
 write your story
she pleads
  
 I see her sincerity‒
her begging
  
 please don’t go away from me....
 please don’t let hate win
  
 I feel the hurt in her
 ‒so deep
 when my words spill
 I don’t want to be here
  
 she’s exhausted
her please
  
 please don’t let
 suicide take you from me
  
 so I fight
I stay
 in this lonely world
 created
just for me
  
 for her
her sad pleas
 how can I die
leave her
not free
  
 so I must
read books
 lose myself
in false looks
 try to forget
this evil hook
 and all he took
  
 for her I’ll stay
 make it through
another day
 me and memories
 of love I believed
of love which deceived
  
 I struggle for her
 try to hide this hurt
 so her eyes
don’t cry
 death...I push away
 one more day
for her to say
  
 mom, I love you
 please stay

(November 9, 2014)—I have over 2,500 poems written and I’m currently typing in two composition journals of them before I start seriously getting into the book I’m writing, although, I did write several pages on it this morning. I am a writer. That’s what I’ve always been no matter what I was doing for money. I’ve always been a writer. Always. I have journals dating back to when I was eight years old. No, I’m not kidding.

Just about the same time I stopped seriously journaling, I started writing poetry. Almost my entire marriage is documented through my writing. So is most of my childhood.

At this moment in my life, I am so glad I posted so much stuff about what I was going through during the darkest time of my separation and divorce because my memories of it are very shaky. God knows what He’s doing. (I guess you can say, I journal through Facebook. After all, I am a writer. If I get paid for it or not, it doesn’t change the fact of who I am.)

So, as I’m typing up these works, there it is: ‘Read Books’…staring me in the face. I cried and cried. I cried reading it. I cried typing it. I cried filing it. I cried. There are many, many works about my darkness, but this one, this one hit me so hard.I don’t think I ever will forgive myself totally for the anguish I put my daughter through. I am sure she will never forget. She was the only one who didn’t abandon me, and she was only 17 when all [x]’s destructible B.S. began.

Like I said many times before, she is my rock and I owe my life to her.You can take that statement with a grain of salt, but I literally owe her my life. The strength she showed me during 2012 and 2013 was the most amazing thing I’ve ever witnessed.

I have this tat on my arm because of her. She said: Mom, when you go down that road again, look at this tat and remember why you are here.Yes, she said that. Not look at me, but look at this tat as if she believed her very life didn’t have much meaning to me. Yes, she picked out the tat, but her life is beyond measure to me. The very reason why I’m still here is her. The very thought of her having to go through my death and go on living without her mother shatters me to the core, and keeps me amongst the living!

I warned her about this poem. I warned her that I would post it. I know how she will feel when she reads it. I know how she will feel when she reads this commentary. I didn’t tell her what I would write here. I didn’t even know until I began writing. But to fully understand the meaning behind ‘Read Books,’ you need to understand our lives.

I will never let my daughter forget what happened to us. I will never let those who still believe in [x] and his cheater get their paws on my daughter. That is hard. I know it is.

She has been hurt enough. She is still hurting. We’ve dealt with a lot. I know others deal, too. I guess, I’m just not ashamed to speak about it. In fact, I refuse to hold it in. I guess my parents, siblings, boys, and past friends are upset with me, maybe, even ashamed of me, because of that fact, but that’s their issue, their character, their honor.

My character and honor are a bit different. I refuse to allow other women to suffer as much as I have. If there is something I can do to prevent this from happening to another woman (or man), I will do it; hence, the poetry I write, the commentary I write and the book I am writing.

I don’t intentionally set out to hurt anyone. If you are hurt by what I write, maybe, it’s your own life you should be looking at, not mine. I have faith that I’m going in the right direction. So, if this here, what I’m writing today, bothers you, then you do need to look at your own life. Something is just not right. Something needs to get fixed. Pray. A lot.

In spite of everything that we’ve been through in 2012 and 2013, this year, it continues, even though we’ve moved away. And my daughter has steadily been here picking me up off the floor. I will write about this in the book. In fact, this is what silent abuse leads to: The aftermath of betrayal. No, it doesn’t end when the divorce papers are final, especially, if minors are still involved. Just this year I’ve been battling with money and all the burdens [x] left on my lap.

(I will have to file bankruptcy with the money I get from the VA that supposed to go for taking care of my health. He quit paying on everything that had my name on it, even though it was for the family, when he decided he didn’t want a family anymore, and I was told five years prior that I shouldn’t be working anymore, which he didn’t believe (told everyone in my family and close friends that I was lazy and used fibro as a crutch!), so I didn’t have the income to pay what he refused.)

I’m still dealing with the fact that [x] is purposefully keeping my son from me. So, I will have to go through a lawyer to force him to bring my son to see me and stay, as well as, force [x] to understand that I’m a parent and not a friend and I will parent and he can’t just come run and pick my son up because I fussed my son or corrected him. Again using money from the VA that is supposed to be for my health.

I’m still dealing with [x] and his lies I never cheated! and calling me a whore and telling everyone I’m crazy, etc., etc. I’m still dealing with [x] who didn’t take care of the house….

(Instead of cleaning it up and putting it up for sale, kids are breaking into it, smoking dope and God knows what else in it, and the bank is now going to take it because he’s so overwhelmed with debt that he just quit paying on it…tell that one to his daughter who knows he makes over $–k a year! He got rid of the family life, all the bills, has no rent, no car payment, no insurance payment…where’s the money going? Now, he quit giving his college-student daughter child support which she really needs to help pay for her apartment! And we still have personal things in that house, which, again, I have to use VA money intended for my health to pay someone to get it because I no longer can lift heavy things!)

My daughter knows where the money’s going. So do I…to the woman, who according to her brother (whom we saw a couple of weekends ago, didn’t like what we had to say, called dear ole dad who came at 11 p.m. and picked him up then sent a farewell text to his daughter!), he’s protecting [girlfriend] from an abusive boyfriend, and her small children! That’s right. Protecting her from her abusive boyfriend. My youngest told me this with the most admirable face. With my shocked expression, I asked:..and what about him abusing your mother? He replied: He was just angry. Wow!

So, now, I have this former drug user playing mom to my son, convincing him that she had nothing to do with the breakup of his family! And, my oldest son not talking to me or his sister again because he doesn’t want to acknowledge the truth. It’s freaking drama upon drama.

On top of all of that, not hearing from my family (not one apology from any of them), dealing with stupid, arrogant men, and my health, as well as, jobs I should have never been forced to take. Of course, those stupid moments popped up again and again, and guess who’s paying the price?!

This last time, ‘Read Books’ was written. I had forgotten about it. Until a couple of nights ago. The book I’m writing will bring all of this back to the surface. Becoming the blame for someone else’s drama has gone on for way too long. Just maybe, this book will open eyes that have been blinded for so long. It won’t be a pleasant book. As you can read from the poem, as well as, this commentary. No, it won’t be pleasant, but it is the truth.

Those who continue to not see the truth, will always be blind…there is nothing I can do about that. I have come to terms with it. I am not alone. I know this now. After seeing a priest, several therapists, many doctors, and going to a woman’s abuse clinic…No, I’m not alone.

I don’t want to see my daughter’s tears anymore. I don’t want to see the anguish in her face anymore. I’m not going anywhere until the Lord says it’s time. Today, even when doubts, loneliness still plague me, I will stay. I stay because of her…that may sound sad, but it’s reality.

You need that special something to keep you grounded, to help you release the darkness and find your way. My special something is her…that beautiful, blue-eyed, talented young woman who looks me straight in the eye and says: Write it all down. Tell the world our story. God’s Scribe…that’s who you are!

Get Your Copy Today!

Paperback: Silent Abuse: Scream NO MORE!: You’re in Depression. You’re Not Losing Your Mind. You’re Just Doing the Time. Book 7

Kindle: Silent Abuse: Scream NO MORE!: You’re in Depression. You’re Not Losing Your Mind. You’re Just Doing the Time. Book 7